


do not go gentle into that good night

by orphan_account



Category: OneShot (Video Game)
Genre: Spoilers, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9657359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: rage, rage against the dying of the light.





	

**Author's Note:**

> it's a Oneshot oneshot haha get it. 
> 
> my crops are dying

They have been here before.

Niko knows the feeling of deja vu -- they way it leaves them breathless, confused, the feeling of their hair slapping against their face as they shake their head and remind themself: _stop being silly, this isn’t the time_ \-- and this...

Isn’t it.

They wish Mama was here. Wish she would kneel down in front of them and take their hands (like she used to) and tell them what this feeling was, exactly. Because Mama is an adult, and she knows things, and Niko does Not Know Things. Not as much as they wish they did.

The sun is warm in their hands, and they try, very hard, to ignore how fragile it is in their grip.

“drt...” they say. The word is barely audible in their own mouth.

“drt,” they repeat. “What’s the right thing to do?”

[...]

They wish there was a third option.

It’s not fair, they think, because they did everything right, and when you do everything right things are supposed to be _okay_ , but -- they don’t want to choose. drt will choose for them, they’re sure. Maybe it’s selfish of them to be grateful that the responsibility of it isn’t on their shoulders.

They’re really tired.

Niko feels the pendelum swing of a decision being made, and they panic.

“drt!” they cry, only to stop short at the sound of something going _crack_ in their hands. They look down at the sun desperately. There’s a spiderweb in the glass. “Oh, no,” they whisper. They wait for...something. But nothing else happens.

[What is it, Niko.]

“I...” they start. “Whatever you decide... Whatever happens after this. Will we still be friends?”

[Of course.]

“I’m glad!” they say. “I know this hasn’t exactly been easy, but... I don’t think I would’ve been able to do this without you.”

For a few moments, the space in the back of their mind where drt talks is silent, and empty. 

“Hey, drt...” Niko says. “Have you ever felt like... you’ve been somewhere before? Or done something before? Like deja vu, but not.”

[Yes], drt says.

And then, [I’m sorry, Niko.]

“Don’t be sorry!” Niko palms the glass in their hands, watching the spiderweb hair slowly outwards. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you, remember?”

If they close their eyes, they can smell Mama’s pancakes. They can feel stalks of wheat catching on their scarf, the sun -- _their_ sun -- on their face, laughter; hazelnut; home.

A dream.

[Good night.] drt says.

The sun goes out.


End file.
